Beyond Broken
by princess.of.forever
Summary: Blaine pushes himself through Harvard poly-sci to please his parents. He does a nice job of covering up how stressed he is, until one morning when Kurt gets a call saying that Blaine has tried to kill himself. WARNING: attempted suicide, NOT graphic, tho
1. Chapter 1

The calls had started coming about four months ago. By now, Kurt was used to them. His body would even wake itself up sometimes, around two in the morning, and if he couldn't go back to sleep, he'd lay there, waiting for the phone to ring.

On the nights it didn't, Kurt would relax, knowing that Blaine was probably asleep. It broke his heart every time Blaine called, every time he listened to him as he cried through the phone. It hurt to hear him so sad.

Most of the time, he'd just lay in bed, his ear pressed against his phone, murmuring softly, trying to make Blaine feel better.

_"I can't do it," Blaine would whisper, his voice breaking at the end. Kurt would listen as Blaine let out a gasp, and a muffled cry. "I can't do it anymore. I'm tired, Kurt. I'm so tired." _

_ "Shh, Blaine, it's going to be okay." _

_ "No," Blaine would sniff into the receiver. "I can't, Kurt." _

_ "Do you need me to come over there? I can be there in less than five hours." _

_ "I…I don't want you to have to do that." _

_ Kurt sighed into the phone. "Blaine, it's not a problem. Let me come over there. I'll take care of you." He smiled as he pictured seeing Blaine. _

_ "No," Blaine said. "You have school tomorrow, too. I'm sorry, Kurt. I shouldn't even be calling. It's nearly three in the morning. You need to sleep." _

_ "It's fine," Kurt said. He meant it, too. "Blaine, you know that, right? Whenever you need to talk-" _

_ "I know," Blaine said. There was a short pause. "Thank you." _

Kurt wasn't really sure what changed in Blaine's life. Freshman year he had been fine. He would call Kurt on Saturdays, telling him how much he loved Boston, the changing leafs, the old architecture. Kurt would tell him all about New York and life in the drama department.

That summer, when they both returned home, they spent every moment they could together. Most of the time, they'd simply sit on Blaine's bed, sometimes not even talking, just enjoying being near one another. They were trying to make up for lost time.

Kurt was excited to start school again, after finishing off his required classes the year before, he could now focus on drama. Blaine wasn't as excited. He had declared his major as political science, even though he showed no real interest in the subject. Kurt knew he was doing it for his parents, but there wasn't anything he could say that would change Blaine's mind.

"Look," Blaine would tell Kurt when he brought up the subject. "I've already disappointed my parents with…you know, being gay. That's not something I can decide. This though, I can decide it. If it makes my parents happy, if it puts us on better terms, if it makes our family dinners less awkward, then I should just do it."

Kurt woke up at 2:21. It was a slow process, coming out of a dream, realizing where he was. He glanced over at the clock and smiled to himself. If Blaine didn't call in the next fifteen or so minutes, it meant he was good for the night. Kurt closed his eyes and let himself fall back to sleep.

The next thing he heard was the sound of his phone vibrating against his desk. He opened his eyes, it was still dark out. He fumbled for the light switched, then immediately snatched up his phone, expecting to hear Blaine on the other end.

"Hey," he mumbled sleepily into the phone.

There was a slight pause from the other end. "Um…Kurt?"

It wasn't Blaine. Kurt's face wrinkled in confusion. No one ever called him this early. It wasn't even six o'clock yet.

"Kurt? This is Wes, Blaine's roommate." Kurt thought he could hear the sound of sirens in the background.

"Kurt? Are you there?"

Kurt swallowed. "Yeah," Kurt said, breathless. "Is…is everything okay? Where's Blaine?"

There was another long pause. It was a horrible silence. Kurt could feel his own heart beating. There was something wrong, he knew there was.

"Kurt…" Wes said slowly. "I hate to tell you this…I…well…Blaine tried to kill himself."

Kurt wasn't sure he had heard Wes correctly. He shook his head, as if somehow Wes would be able to see. His heart was beating overtime, racing against his ribcage, trying to break free. It stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. His body had gone numb.

"He…he's okay though?" Kurt held his breath waiting for the answer. Blaine had to be okay. He had to.

"Well…he's _going_ to be. I think. Kurt, I'm so sorry."

Kurt bit his lip and blinked, trying to squash the tears lurking behind his eyelids. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for calling me, and letting me know."

"Of course," Wes's voice was soft, soothing. "I'll call you as soon as they let me see him."

"Wait-" Kurt said quickly. "What…what happened?"

Wes sighed.

"I'm not really sure what happened. I was in the library studying until about one o'clock last night. It closed then, so I ended up going to a friend's dorm room to study a bit more. We'd invited Blaine to come along, but he said he didn't feel that well. Anyways, I fell asleep in my friend's room, but woke up at about four…maybe four thirty, and headed back to my dorm. I wasn't really awake, I kind of just fell into bed. I woke up at about five to use the bathroom and…" Wes's voice broke off. After a moment he cleared his throat and tried again.

"I went into the bathroom, and it was all dark, I couldn't see a thing. But it…it smelled funny. Kind of like copper. I turned on the light and Blaine was just laying there on the ground. He…he'd slit his wrists and there was blood all over. Anyways, I called an ambulance. They said he must have been there for more than half an hour, so he must have done it before I got into the room."

Kurt sank onto the floor, wrapping his arms tightly around himself, pressing the phone hard against his ear.

"Why?" He whispered. "Oh, God, I can't believe…I didn't realize he was so unhappy…" Kurt could feel himself start to cry; he felt the tears course down his face and splash onto his lap where they lay there, unabsorbed, for a moment before sinking into the fabric of his pajamas.

"None of us did," Wes said. "He seemed fine, happy even. I mean, yeah, he was stressed, but we all are. The life of a Harvard student, huh?" Wes snorted into the phone. "Not all it's cracked up to be."

Kurt tried to go to class, but when it came time, he didn't have it in him. Instead, he retrieved one of Blaine's shirts from his closet, put it on, and crawled back into bed. Wes said that the hospital had Blaine in seventy-two hour lockdown. Kurt wasn't sure he could wait three days.

One of the things that absolutely broke him, the thing that hurt the most, was the fact that Blaine hadn't let Kurt help him. Had Blaine really felt that alone? The thought made Kurt's heart break.

The next day, Kurt realized he couldn't sit around and wait. Wes had called late the night before, only to tell him that they weren't letting Blaine see anyone or make any calls. However, the doctors had been able to stabilize him, he was conscious, and he was going to be okay.

So instead of sitting and waiting, Kurt threw some essentials into a bag and drove the five hours to Boston. The whole way there he thought of nothing else but Blaine. More than anything, Kurt just needed to see him, to touch him, to make sure he was going to be alright.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm going to take you home," Kurt whispered. Blaine just sat there, avoiding Kurt's eyes. They'd been sitting there for nearly an hour, Kurt trying to talk to Blaine, Blaine refusing to speak.

"I'm going to make this better," Kurt said. "I'm going to make you better." He reached out to touch Blaine's hand, but as soon as he did so, Blaine dropped them from his lap. Kurt sighed and stood up.

"Blaine?" All he wanted was for Blaine to look at him. "I…I want to take care of you. You know, I was thinking about it all the way over here. You've always been the one taking care of _me_, with all that stuff in high school, helping me out and helping me feel like I was special. I want to help you now. Okay?"

Blaine didn't move. He didn't even look up. He just sat there, staring at the floor. Kurt waited hopefully for a moment before reluctantly leaving the room. He walked out to the waiting room.

* * *

><p>Wes was sitting on a chair, surrounded with neatly labeled boxes. He stood up as Kurt approached, a friendly smile on his face, hand outstretched.<p>

"Hey," Kurt shook his hand. "Thank you for everything, Wes." Wes shook his head.

"It's no problem. I just…I really hope Blaine's okay. How is he doing?"

"He's not talking to anyone," Kurt said, absentmindedly playing with the sleeve of his shirt. "He's been seeing a therapist, but they can't tell me how that's going. He's…he's _going_ to be okay, though. He has to be."

"And you're taking him back to New York with you?"

Kurt nodded.

"Are you sure you can handle all that? I mean, you're still in school-"

"It'll be fine. I just worry about leaving him alone. I already called the school and dropped a few classes, but I'm still going to be gone a few hours a day. That does worry me."

"If you need any help, just let me know," Wes reached out and gave Kurt a reassuring pat on the back. Kurt felt himself smile, a genuine smile.

"Thank you." He looked at the stack of boxes. "Would you mind helping me get these into my car?"

* * *

><p>Kurt stood outside Blaine's room, watching him sleep. There was so much he didn't understand. But he knew he wanted to get Blaine out of the hospital, away from the unnatural lights, away from the poking and prodding. He wanted to bring Blaine somewhere where he could feel safe, and comfortable.<p>

"Kurt?" He spun around to see a nurse, Blaine's nurse, holding a clipboard. "Hi, sorry to bother you." Her voice was soft and melodic. "We have his release form, but there are a few conditions." She handed him the sheet of paper.

"He has to see a therapist at least once a week. I've written down a list of places close to your apartment. He also shouldn't be alone too much. I know you have school, but if Blaine is feeling, or acting, somewhat depressed, even _slightly_ depressed, it would be best not to leave him by himself."

She leaned against the window, nervously tapping her fingertips against it.

"There are some other things you should know," she said, not looking at Kurt. "The first night he was here, after we stabilized him and everything, he told me about you. He said that he was afraid you weren't going to want him after you found out how messed up he was." She took a deep breath. "He's…he's not the same person he was, or at least, he's not the same person you knew. I just want to make sure you're not going to run out on him."

Kurt looked through the window, back at Blaine. He watched him as he shifted a little in his sleep, his mouth slightly parted. Kurt smiled sadly and shook his head.

"I won't leave him. I'm just worried that he's already left me."

* * *

><p>The first hour of the drive was spent in silence. Kurt played with the radio a bit, trying to find something Blaine might like. Eventually, he just gave up, letting the silence consume them. Kurt glanced over at Blaine who was resting his head against the window.<p>

Kurt's eyes roamed over Blaine's face, hardened, saddened. The nurse was right, Blaine wasn't the boy Kurt knew. Kurt felt his throat lock. Signaling, he veered off the highway and into a little town. Blaine didn't even seem to notice.

Kurt wasn't really sure what he was doing. He wanted Blaine to just say something already. He turned off the main road and headed down street after street of small houses, little shops, and empty plots of land, until he came to a place where no one could see them or hear them.

Kurt stopped the car and pulled the keys out of the ignition. Blaine's eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling. Kurt watched him for a second before leaning over and whispering in his ear.

"Do you love me, Blaine?"

Blaine's eyes opened slowly and focused on Kurt. He sat there, looking up at Kurt, his eyes wide and beautiful. Finally, after several anxious heartbeats, a small smile crept up on Blaine's face.

"I'll love you forever, I thought you knew that."

Kurt let out somewhere between a laugh of relief and a sob. He grabbed Blaine's hands, running his finger across Blaine's palm, feeling the warmth and familiarity. He felt his cheeks get wet as tears started to roll down his face.

"God, I love you so much, Blaine," he whispered, pulling himself closer.

* * *

><p>Blaine didn't say much else, but something had changed, and Kurt was grateful for that. Sometime during the final hour of the drive, Blaine fell asleep. Kurt smiled to himself as he listened to the soft noises Blaine made, remembering the first time they'd slept together. It had been the night before the two of them left for college, and Kurt knew then that he'd always love Blaine.<p>

When they reached Kurt's apartment, Blaine woke up, almost as if on cue. Kurt sat there in the dark car for a moment, just looking at Blaine. Just as Kurt was about to turn around, Blaine leaned up and touched a light kiss to Kurt's cheek.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry, Kurt."


	3. Chapter 3

"Don't you have school?" Blaine was curled up on the bed, wrapped in a tangle of blankets. It was still early, not even seven o'clock yet, but Blaine couldn't sleep. He hadn't been able to sleep in a long, long time.

Kurt's eyelids fluttered open. A slow smile crept up on his face and he shook his head, reaching out for Blaine's hand. It was warm under the covers, and for some strange reason, Kurt felt a feeling of happiness and hopefulness take over him.

It was something about _this_. Something about the way the world seemed quiet, something about the way he'd woken up to find Blaine lying beside him, something about the way the heater inside hummed steadily while outside the rain poured. It was all of it, all of little pieces coming together, which made him smile.

"No," he whispered back. "I've got absolutely nothing today. Why don't you try to get some more sleep, then I can take you to breakfast."

Blaine shook his head, drawing his knees up to this chest. "Can't sleep," he mumbled. Kurt frowned a little, pulling himself a little closer.

"What's wrong?"

Blaine shook his head and sighed into his pillow. "I just…I can't."

Kurt ran his thumb against Blaine's hand, tracing small circles against the warm skin. "What are you thinking about?" He whispered.

Blaine shifted a little bit, burring himself deeper under the covers. "Everything," he said, softly. "I've messed up _everything_."

"Blaine, none of this is your fault. You were doing too much, you couldn't handle it all. But I'm going to make you better now, okay? You need some time to just enjoy things. Like right now." Kurt propped himself up, so close to Blaine that their noses touched, and he could feel Blaine's breath against his cheek.

"You know this morning, when I woke up, I felt _happy_. I still feel it, right now. Looking at you, I feel like my life is only beginning. _This_…this makes me happy, being here with you, with the sun not even up yet, with the rain coming down. I start to think that maybe it could be like this forever."

Kurt leaned down and pressed a kiss to Blaine's cheek.

"So whatever is on your mind, whatever is worrying you, just tell me. I want to know how you feel, what you're thinking. I love you, Blaine." Kurt rolled back to his spot on the bed, curling his body to mold Blaine's. Blaine could feel himself start to cry, noiseless tears sliding down his face.

"Hush now," Kurt said, running his fingers through Blaine's hair. "Get some sleep."

* * *

><p>For the past few hours, Blaine had been winding in and out of dreamland. His nightmares were laced with reality; alternating between the cold, white marble of the bathroom sink and the feeling of Kurt's hand on his own.<p>

In the middle of a nightmare, he could feel himself spinning, slipping, falling. He could hear the blood tip-tapping into a puddle on the ground. Red streaks warmed his wrists while his fingertips became ice. _So pretty_, he thought, closing his eyes.

And then Kurt would sigh in his sleep and Blaine would wake with a start. Kurt's eyelashes fluttered and he kicked aimlessly at the covers around his feet. Blaine lay there, silent, trying desperately to feel what Kurt had been describing. He didn't want to be so miserable. He didn't want to be so lonely. He didn't want to cry anymore, or be such a wreck. He didn't want to have nightmares and sleepless nights. He wanted to just close his eyes and drift off, safe and sound.

* * *

><p>Sometime later, the two boys woke together. The rain had quieted somewhat, and outside, the city had come to life. Carefully pulling back the blankets, Kurt stood up, wincing when his toes touched the cold ground.<p>

"You're stuff is still packed. We can sort that all out this afternoon. You're welcome to borrow anything of mine, though," Kurt said, opening up his closet.

Blaine smiled. He loved to wear Kurt's clothes. It had nothing to do with the way they looked. In all honesty, Kurt's taste was a little different from his own. But rather, he loved that they smelled like Kurt; he loved the way Kurt's jackets were a little too big for him, covering his fingertips and brushing a little past his hips. He got up and walked over to where Kurt was standing, gently wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and breathing him in.

"Mmm…" Kurt sighed, playing with the bottom of Blaine's shirt. "I like this."

Blaine made a humming noise, soft and low. Kurt grinned into his shoulder and began rocking back and forth. The two of them turned slowly around the same spot, dancing to their heartbeats and the sound of the rain.

* * *

><p>Eventually, the two of them broke apart. There was something peaceful that had settled into the room; something both sleepy and invigorating at the same time. It was calm, yet bursting with life.<p>

"I'm going to go get some breakfast for us, okay? I'll be right back." Kurt gave Blaine a swift kiss and headed out, careful to close the door gently behind him.

The apartment seemed empty with just Blaine in it. For some odd reason, it felt smaller with just him. Too small; no breathing room, no space to move. The clock on the wall seemed to grow louder and louder. Blaine crawled back into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. He didn't like being alone.

_Alone_. Every raindrop that hit the window seemed to sting. The blankets began to feel too warm; the weight of them seemed to press down on him. Blaine kicked them off and pulled his knees up to his chest, trying to breathe.

_Breathe_. But he couldn't. There was something clawing, scratching, burning, its way through his chest. He felt sick to his stomach; his skin felt feverish. The familiarity of this feeling made him panic. He stumbled over to the window and opened it, letting the wind and rain flood in. The cold felt good on his skin, and for a moment, he felt a little better. But then it crept up through the window. It was the _sound_; the sound of cars, of people, of movement. Blaine felt himself slide to the ground, burying his face in the fabric of his pajamas.

He hated this feeling; the feeling of being out of control, of being weak. He could feel himself start to cry, and then he couldn't feel at all. The outside of his skin was numb from cold, but the inside was on fire. He was going to lay here forever. There was no one who could make him feel better. He was too far gone; he was in too deep. Closing his eyes, he let the world go black.

* * *

><p>"Blaine?" He felt someone's hands touch his forehead, pushing his hair off his face. The noise had gone away, the room had stopped shrinking. He opened his eyes and saw Kurt leaning over him, looking both worried and anxious.<p>

"What happened? Are you alright?" He helped Blaine sit up, gently pressing a glass of water into his hand. "You scared me. I…I came back and you were…" his voice broke off as his eyes roamed across Blaine's face. "Did something happen?"

Blaine shook his head and shakily stood up. "I just…I don't like being alone." He said. He knew what he was saying was childish, and in a way, selfish, but the words tumbled out before he could stop them. He just had to tell somebody.

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt reached out for him and held him close. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have…this is all my fault." He kept murmuring apologies into Blaine's ear, trying to fix whatever had been broken.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the comments :) ! This one is a little different than I was planning. You start to see some of Kurt and Blaine's past together. Let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy! OH-and I'm planning on writing a Valentine's Day chapter...so yeahh :) ...OHOH, and Happy Birthday Darren Criss!  
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* * *

><p>"I don't want to go," Blaine mumbled into the mattress. "Don't make me go."<p>

Kurt couldn't help but smile. There was something so charming about the child-like Blaine. Kurt ran his hands through Blaine's curls. Blaine let out a soft noise, somewhere between a sigh and a hiccup.

"Blaine, you need to talk to someone about all this. It's too much for one person to handle." He began rubbing small circles on Blaine's back. After a moment, he could feel Blaine's body start to relax, sinking softly into the bed.

"I can't talk about it," Blaine's voice was muffled. "Especially not to a stranger."

"Well…" Kurt hesitated a moment. The two of them had barely spoken about what had happened. Kurt had so many questions, but was too afraid that asking would hurt Blaine. "Well maybe," Blaine raised his head a little, looking up at Kurt with wide eyes. "Maybe you could talk to me about it first? I'm not a stranger."

Blaine sat up, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "I…" Blaine bit his lip, rocking back and forth. "I can't, Kurt."

"Just try. Tell me something. _Anything_."

"I love you?" It came out like a question; Blaine's eyes roaming over Kurt's face, trying to analyze and read it. Kurt smiled, feeling himself blush a little.

"Keep going," Kurt reached out for Blaine's hand.

"Well…I think I realized I loved you the day in the park. Do you remember that? It was just so perfect. It was our half-year anniversary. I just remember thinking, _wow, six months_, _we're going to last forever_. And I mean, so far we have…how am I doing?"

Kurt smiled. "You're doing wonderfully."

Blaine took a deep breath. "We sat on the swings for hours, just talking about whatever was on our minds. I learned so much about you that day. And then I realized it, right there, that I loved you." Blaine felt himself start to smile.

"You make me so happy."

"I've made you cry," Kurt whispered, pressing little kisses along Blaine's hands. Blaine looked at him for a moment before shrugging.

"It's good in a way. It sucks when it's happening; all the yelling and fighting. But when we make up, it feels so good. I feel closer to you. Like I've seen more of you, more than what most people get to see."

"But it hurts you," Kurt felt his breath catch. "I just worry that…maybe I was part of the problem."

* * *

><p><em>"I don't want to fight anymore," Blaine mumbled into the phone. He had been up half the night, part of him angry at Kurt, part of him angry at himself. It was nearly noon, and after getting practically no sleep, Blaine could feel his eyes start to close. He lay down on the bed, his phone pressed to his ear. <em>

_ According to his call history, he had called Kurt twenty-nine times since that morning. Each time it had gone straight to voicemail. Blaine had left messages on half the calls, each one a combination of begging Kurt to pick up and yelling at him for not answering his phone. Now he just wanted to fix things; he wanted to hold Kurt and tell him how much he loved him. _

_ Blaine sighed. "It's pretty clear you don't want to talk to me. It's just that I leave tomorrow and…" Blaine's voice trailed off. There were so many thoughts going through his head. _And I don't know if we're together anymore. I don't know why you got so angry at me. I don't know why we fight so much. I don't know why you're ignoring me. I don't know why I let you make me feel so horrible.

_"I'd like to see you before I go. I think we have some stuff to talk about." Blaine looked at the screen for a moment before hanging up. Pulling the covers up, he turned onto his side and let himself go to sleep; attempting to dream away his nightmare. _

* * *

><p><em> The rest of the afternoon was passed slowly; Blaine wove in and out of sleep, waking up every so often to roll over and check his phone, only to find that Kurt hadn't called him back. Sometime around five, he caved and called Kurt once more. <em>

_ It rang three times before going to voicemail. Blaine sighed and fought the urge to throw the phone across the room. _

_ "Hi," he could hear the tiredness in his own voice. "It's me. I…" Blaine looked out his window. "I'm going to our spot behind the bleachers. Maybe you could meet me there?" _

_ The two of them had found the spot midway through their senior year. It comprised of nothing more than a thicket of trees and a small bench. It was far enough away from the field that no one could see them, yet close enough that they could hear everything going on. Friday nights, they would spend the time wrapped together under a blanket, Blaine's iPod playing some love song, whispering to each other through the dark. _

_ Blaine sat on the bench until the air grew so cold he couldn't feel his fingertips. He checked his phone one last time before heading back to his car. When he got home, it was nearly midnight. The house was silent, his parents being either out or asleep. Barely awake, he crawled into bed, wondering how someone he loved so much could make him hurt so badly. _

* * *

><p><em> Blaine got about four hours of sleep before his alarm went off. He showered, got dressed, gathered all this stuff, and tried hard not to think about Kurt. His parents were taking him to the airport; the forty minute drive being the longest time he had spent with them all summer. <em>

_ It was a quiet car ride. His dad did mention how excited he was that Blaine was going to be starting political science, and even went so far as to offer advise on which classes to take. Blaine sat there silently, trying to remember a time when his dad had been this interested in his life. _

_ His parents stayed with him up until he reached security. They watched as he went through, waving goodbye as he disappeared into the crowd. Neither of them had realized Kurt was missing. _

* * *

><p><em> The flight to Boston was short. Blaine slept through most of it. It was a sweet, dreamless sleep. A few hours later he was in the middle of unpacking when his phone rang. Checking the screen, he saw that it was Kurt. He stood there, deliberating for a moment, before answering. <em>

_ "__Hi," Kurt breathed into the phone. _

_It was like everything became silent. Blaine's senses seemed to heighten. He felt himself sink down to the ground; subconsciously wrapping his arms around himself. _

_ "__Blaine? Are you there?" Kurt sounded a little worried. "Blaine?" _

_ "I'm here." Blaine closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. _

_ "__Blaine…" Kurt's voice was soft. "I'm so, so sorry. I feel so stupid now. Last night I didn't come to meet you because I was so angry and so stupid. I knew I was going to regret it." He paused for a moment. "And then this morning, I wanted to come say goodbye but I'm just too stupid and prideful. I'm so sorry." The words are rushed, desperate to get out; desperate to make things right. _

_ "__Please say something." _

_Blaine shook his head, not trusting his voice quite yet. "You're mean, Kurt. What you do is mean. You can't just…" his voice cracked. "You can't just mess with me, play games with me." _

_ "__Please, can we just forget about it? I'm so sorry. All I want is to make things right." _

_ "I don't know, Kurt." Blaine felt himself start to cry. "Maybe this is it. I mean, I'm at school now and you'll be going back to New York soon. We haven't been happy together in weeks, and now I'm not going to see you until Christmas…"_

_ "__No, Blaine…no," Kurt was beginning to sound slightly hysterical. "You don't mean that. We can make this work. It was just a stupid fight. Can't we just forget about it?" _

_ "__Yeah, sure," Blaine's voice was hard now; anger slowly creeping up on him. "Just like you forgot to say goodbye?" _

_There was complete silence for a moment. _

_ "I love you, Blaine." _

_ "__I have to go." _

* * *

><p><em>Blaine spent the rest of the day sitting motionless on the floor. He was thankful that Wes wasn't coming back for a few days; he didn't want to be pitied. Sometime around six he realized how hungry he was getting. Just as he was about to leave to get some dinner, there was a knock at the door. <em>

_It was Kurt. Blaine felt himself go numb. It was Kurt, standing in the doorway, wearing jeans and a tee shirt, looking exhausted. He held up a grocery bag. _

_ "__I brought dinner."_

_Sitting on the hardwood floor, Kurt began unpacking the bag. _

_ "I got all your favorites," he said quietly, almost apprehensively. Blaine folded his arms and rested his chin on his knees. _

_ "__Why are you here?" _

_ "__Because I hurt you, and I want to make it right. I love you Blaine, I love you so much. And…" Kurt bit his lip and looked away. "And if we're going to end this, than I just want you to know how much you mean to me before we call it quits."_

_ "__I don't want to breakup" _

_ "__Then let's not," Kurt reached out for Blaine's hand. _

_ "But we don't work," Blaine whispered. "We fight all the time. I don't make you happy. You should be happy." It had been something Blaine was afraid of for a long time. He could feel himself sink; relief and worry rushing in and out, trying to find equilibrium. _

_ "__You make me crazy," Kurt voice was a blazing whisper. "You make me so angry sometimes, Blaine. You make me so frustrated, so sad, so miserable. But you also make me so, so happy." The two of them sat there crying, holding each other at arm's length; afraid to get too close, but at the same time, not wanting to let go. Kurt reached up and wiped Blaine's tears, feeling himself start to smile. _

_ "__Wes isn't back for a few days," Blaine finally manages to say. "And my bed's pretty comfortable." _

_With that, Kurt tackled Blaine, kissing him hard, his hands holding tightly to Blaine's shoulders. That night, they lay curled up on the bed. It was too hot for blankets, so instead they wrapped themselves in each other. _

* * *

><p>The waiting room was rather cold. Blaine could hear the heater working, yet for some reason, the air in the room bit and stung. Kurt sat beside him, flipping through a magazine, trying to distract Blaine by making comments on the pictures. Blaine just sat there, his hands in his pockets, trying to calm himself down.<p>

"Why can't I just talk to you some more?" He asked.

Kurt let out a gentle laugh. "You can talk to me anytime, Blaine. You know that, right?" Blaine nodded. "It's just that a therapist will know how to help you."

"Blaine Anderson?" A woman appeared at the doorway. Both Kurt and Blaine stood up.

"I'll be right here," Kurt promised, pressing a kiss to Blaine's cheek.

* * *

><p>"Tell me about yourself," the woman said, her voice was like butter.<p>

"Um," Blaine looked around the small room. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything," she said, smiling.

"Can you ask me a question? That's easier for me."

"Alright," she thought for a moment. "Who was that out there in the lobby with you?"

"My boyfriend," Blaine shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "His name is Kurt."

She smiled encouragingly. "How long have you guys been together?"

"A little more than two years; we met in high school."

"What do you like about him?"

Blaine felt himself blush. "He understands me, I think. My parents…they've never really been all that interested in me. But when I met Kurt…" Blaine thought for a moment. "He cares about me."

The woman leaned forward a little bit. "Blaine? I'm going to ask you something now; you don't have to answer, you may not even know the answer, but I'd like you to think about it."

Blaine nodded.

"Why did you try to kill yourself?"


	5. Chapter 5

**I thought I had posted this ages ago, but it's not coming up for some reason...my apologies if it's on here twice or something, but I just noticed that and thought I should fix it :)  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>"Blaine," Kurt felt himself run his fingers through Blaine's hair, pulling himself closer. He was slightly breathless, slowly planting kisses along Blaine's jawline and down his neck, across his collarbones until he reached the fabric of his shirt. <em>

_ "Mm," Blaine breathed in response, his heart pressing against his chest. "Kurt…" he sighed as Kurt began to kiss lower and lower. "Maybe we should…" he sighed again as Kurt planted a kiss on his stomach. "Let's finish the movie," he finally manages to say. _

_ Kurt pulls away, his cheeks flushed and his lips red. "You…you don't want to?" He asked, gesturing to Blaine's half-buttoned shirt. Blaine shifted uncomfortably. _

_ "Maybe we should wait," he mumbled, redoing the work Kurt had undone. Kurt sat there for a moment. He wasn't sure to feel. _

_ "Did I do something wrong?" Kurt wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. It had all been so sudden. The past few months they hadn't gone much farther than kissing, and even that was done only when Blaine was absolutely sure no one was looking. _

_ "No," Blaine looked worried. "No, Kurt, it's not that I don't want to. It's just that…" he ran his fingers over the stitching on the quilt. "I'm afraid," he whispered. "If I let myself get to close, maybe you'll hurt me." The words were rushed, and he said them with his eyes cast down, his cheeks reddening as he spoke. _

_ Kurt swallowed. Had he somehow given Blaine the idea that was going to leave him? He reached out and wrapped his arms around Blaine's waste. _

_ "I don't know what to say," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I mean…I know how I feel about you right now, but I can't really promise you anything in the future." He knew it sounded awful, but he really couldn't promise the future. _

_ Blaine looked up at him, his eyes wide and hopeful. "How do you feel about me now?" _

_ "I love you, Blaine." _

_ Blaine felt himself start to smile. He sighed and buried his face in Kurt's shoulder; the spot between his neck and his collarbone. _

_ "I'm not ready now, but soon, okay?" He mumbled. Kurt smiled to himself and gently kissed the side of Blaine's face. _

_ "Okay." _

* * *

><p>"Good morning, beautiful," Kurt opened his eyes to find Blaine leaning over him, his hair slightly messy with an eager smile already on his face. Kurt smiled and leaned up a little to kiss him.<p>

"Happy Valentine's Day," Blaine said, resting his arms on either side of Kurt, his face just within kissing distance.

"You too," Kurt mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Almost nine," Blaine pushed some of the hair out of Kurt's eyes. "You're so beautiful. As creepy as this sounds, I love to watch you sleep."

Kurt laughed and pushed himself up so that he was leaning against the stack of pillows. "I got you something," he said, leaning over to the nightstand next to his bed. He handed Blaine a small box wrapped in silver paper.

Blaine carefully pulled back the paper and lifted the lid. Inside was a key. Kurt looked a little embarrassed.

"I know that you sort of already have, but I want you to move in with me."

Blaine turned the key over in his hand, smiling as he looked up to meet Kurt's eyes.

"Kurt…" he folded his hand around it. "I…" he sighed. "What about Harvard? I'll have to go back sooner or later."

"You don't have to. I'm not actually sure you should." Kurt placed his hand over Blaine's.

"But…" Blaine shook his head and pulled his knees up to his chest. "My parents already called me. They want me to start again as soon as possible."

"No, Blaine, you can't. You need to get better first. You can't just throw yourself back into all that." Kurt could hear himself start to panic. The thought of Blaine going back, going away from him, made him worry.

He had become accustomed to waking up in the morning next to Blaine; hearing his breathing as he drifted off to sleep, feeling his body underneath the covers. He liked coming home from class to find Blaine on the couch, reading a book or flipping through the channels on the TV. He liked the way everything seemed full with Blaine around.

And then there was the other side to it. He knew that Blaine was safe here. He had Kurt to keep an eye out for him. Here, Blaine was away from whatever had been haunting him. Here, Blaine was safe.

Blaine sighed and placed the key on the nightstand. "I just don't want to disappoint my parents," he said.

"Have you made plans to go back?"

Blaine hesitated. "Well…kind of. I've actually been meaning to talk to you about that." He tugged absentmindedly on the bottom of his shirt. "My parents booked me a ticket back. I'd be leaving in a week. They already spoke to the headmaster, and he said most of my classes will excuse me from the work I've missed. I just—"

"Wait," Kurt stood up, his face a little flushed. "You're just going to do what your parents say? They haven't even come to see you. They've got no say in what you do. Blaine, your…" Kurt stopped for a moment. "Your parents..."

"They don't care, I know." Blaine bit his lip. "I've spent my whole life trying to please them. We can't all have parents like yours, Kurt. My parents are only interested in me if I'm doing something that they can brag about. I'm not their child, I'm their…I don't know, _showpiece_, or something. But they're my parents, Kurt. I love them. And I want them to be proud of me." He pushed himself off the bed, refusing to meet Kurt's eyes. "You wouldn't understand," he grabbed his jacket off the dresser.

"I'm going to go for a walk," he mumbled.

* * *

><p>Kurt contemplated going after him. He had never seen Blaine get so upset before. He knew bits and pieces about the Andersons. For starters, they were almost never home. He smiled to himself, remembering how easy it had been to fool around in Blaine's room; never worrying about his parents accidently barging in on them.<p>

Of course, Kurt's parents had invited the Andersons over several times, each time Blaine's parents would respond with a polite but overly formal explanation for why they couldn't make it. The one thing they _did_ make, however, was Blaine's graduation. He'd been nominated to make a speech, and for that, his parents had been willing to spend an hour and a half on their son.

Kurt remembered sitting in Blaine's room, listening to him practice the speech over and over. He remembered thinking that it was perfect and telling Blaine that he should take a break. He remembered kissing the back of Blaine's neck as Blaine shook his head.

"My _parents_ are going to be there," he said, as if that explained everything.

And now, sitting alone in his apartment, the room feeling emptier than it ever had, Kurt began to understand that perhaps that really was an explanation.

* * *

><p>Blaine walked down streets that looked only slightly familiar. It was cold out, and he wished he had grabbed a scarf or something. He quickened his pace, hoping that would warm him up a little.<p>

It was all so confusing. Everything seemed to be swirling around, the thoughts, the emotions, all of it, seemed to be moving faster and faster, about to close in on him any second. He thought about what his therapist had asked him: _"Why did you try to kill yourself?" _

He reached the end of the street and made a left. He had tried to kill himself because he felt as if there wasn't anything worth living for anymore.

_"Why about Kurt?" She asked. _

_ "Kurt is worth living for," he said. "I love him." _

But sometimes it felt as if that wasn't enough.

_"Did you think about how it might hurt other people? Did you think about how Kurt would feel?" _

_"I thought about it. But…" Blaine thought for a moment. "I figured that he'd move on." Blaine fidgeted a little. "Sometimes I feel as if I love him more than he loves me." _

**Love. **That was what today was supposed to be all about. Blaine looked around. The shops were all filled with pink and red; couples held hands as they crossed the streets, smiling secretly for each other.

_"Sometimes I feel as if I love him more than he loves me." _Maybe those hadn't been the right words. No, what he had meant to say was that sometimes he felt as if he _needed_ Kurt more than Kurt needed him.

* * *

><p>It took Blaine a little while to find his way back to the apartment. He pushed the door open and took a cautious step inside. Kurt ran out of the bedroom, his eyes a little red, still wearing the sweatpants he had fallen asleep in the night before.<p>

They met halfway, kissing each other the minute they were close enough. Blaine felt Kurt's hands roam across his back, slipping underneath his shirt.

"I think we should talk—" Blaine mumbled into Kurt's shoulder.

"Later," Kurt said. "Just let me love you right now."


	6. Chapter 6

**Ahh-sorry this has taken me so long! These things called homework, tests, and ACT prep take up a lot of time! I hope you enjoy this chapter; you get to see a lot of Blaine & Kurt's memories. Any comments or suggestions are welcome :) **

* * *

><p><em>Eighteen—it seemed like forever ago. Kurt still remembered the way Blaine looked in the dark. They were silhouettes dancing along a blue backdrop. Kurt remembered how Blaine had written him a letter for the plane ride and sealed with a red sticker in the shape of a heart. Kurt felt guilty that he hadn't done something like that for Blaine. But all Blaine said was that it didn't matter because he had Kurt and that was all he needed. Then he had kissed Kurt's forehead and changed the topic. <em>

_ It had been Kurt who suggested they try. There was something symbolic about it; moving out, leaving home, following your dreams—it was another component of growing up. They had agreed to it a while before, but that night, neither of them seemed to want to bring it up. _

_ Kurt had gotten the hotel room. He wanted to make it special. Blaine seemed nervous, but didn't say anything except that he loved Kurt and he would do anything to make him happy. At the time, Kurt thought that was the sweetest, most romantic thing anyone had ever said to him. Looking back though, it seemed like another puzzle piece. _

_ They initially had planned on going out to dinner; somewhere fancy, perhaps, where they could talk and kiss and play footsie under the table. As dinner drew closer, however, they both realized that they just wanted each other, no one else. They had plenty of time to give to others, but only the next twenty-four hours to give to each other. So instead, they ordered room service and shut the world out, just for a moment. _

_ Kurt was hesitant to bring it up again. There was some part of him, some belief he had harbored for as long as he could remember, that told him it would happen at the right time. He kind of wanted it to be natural, in the way a first kiss is just supposed to happen. So instead of asking, he let the moments tick by. _

_ Eventually, he stood up and stretched; grabbing a towel as he headed into the bathroom. Blaine's eyes were fixed on him, not wanting to ask but not wanting to be alone for the short time either. He listened as Kurt turned on the shower and let the water run as he waited for it to heat up. _

_ Blaine closed his eyes and waited for Kurt to come back to him. _

* * *

><p><em> When he opened his eyes again, Kurt was sitting in front of him, his skin hot and red from the shower, his hair a still damp, smelling like something sweet and pretty. He was smiling down at Blaine, a soft, sweet, contented little smile. <em>

_ "Did you fall asleep?" He teased, sitting down on the bed. _

_ Blaine groaned a little bit, his eyes readjusting to the light. "I missed you," he mumbled, trying not to sound too desperate or clingy. "Come lay here with me." _

_ Kurt obliged, slipping under the covers with him; their feet brushing, making their heartbeats race. Kurt stifled a yawn and glanced at the clock. It wasn't even midnight yet. _

_ "If you're sleepy, you should sleep," he said to Blaine, whose eyes were half-closed again. "I don't mind." _

_ But Blaine shook his head and forced himself to sit up. _

_ "I want to spend every moment of the next few hours looking at you," he said. "Anyways, I think we should talk. You know, about this coming year and everything. You being in New York, me being in Boston…" he let his voice trail off. _

_ "Wait—you don't want to break up with me, do you?" Kurt sounded a little panicked. _

_ Blaine could feel himself smile; his whole body relaxing. _

"_No. It took so long to make you mine; there's no way I'm going to let you just slip away from me." _

_ And the room was dead silent and everything seemed to come together. The moment they both had been waiting for was born. _

* * *

><p><em> They took their time, starting with small kisses, stopping every now and then to whisper how much they loved each other. Blaine felt Kurt fumble with the zipper on his trousers and all he could think about was how perfect Kurt was and how lucky he was to have someone so sweet and gentle in his life. <em>

_ Touching Kurt was scary. Blaine worried he might break him—the pale white skin, the bones so fragile. Kurt's body was so white and pure, untouched, unblemished. He was still innocent, with wide, curious blue eyes. Laid out, Kurt's back was like a slate of possibilities, endless and almost unfathomable. Blaine cautiously reached out, his fingertips brushing lightly over the skin. Kurt could sense his hesitation. _

_ Blaine tried to explain, "I don't want to hurt you," he said. "This is something we can't take back. Are you sure you want to?" _

_ Kurt nodded, leaning up to kiss Blaine. "I'm sure." _

_ When they were done, all Blaine could think of was how nice it had felt to be that close to someone. He couldn't remember a time when he had felt that special; the way Kurt kissed him like he was something to be treasured, and the way Kurt seemed to need him made him feel complete. _

_ He watched as Kurt drifted off to sleep in his arms. It was a face he had grown to know; a map of familiarities and memories. There was that spot behind Kurt's ear where he kissed for the first time at Prom, and the corner of his mouth where he'd kiss whenever he was in a hurry. There was the flawless skin that Kurt spent hours tending to as Blaine sat on the bed and watched. There were the blue eyes that Blaine had gotten so used to looking at. _

* * *

><p><em> They had talked about the whole long distance thing, the first time being in the fall when they were putting together their college packets. Kurt's schools were primarily in New York, whereas Blaine's ranged from California to Boston. <em>

_ They sat on Blaine's bed, each holding their list of schools that they were going to pass on to their college councilors. Kurt had been the one to suggest that they didn't tell each other where they were applying. _

_ "Why?" Blaine asked, slowly starting to worry that maybe this was Kurt pushing him away. Maybe Kurt didn't care anymore. _

_ "Because," Kurt reached out to touch Blaine's cheek. "I don't care if you go to college in _Atlantis_, the distance doesn't matter to me. All that matters is that we stay together."_

_ Blaine felt his worry slowly edge away. "So…you're saying that even if we end up on opposite sides of the country, you still want to make this work?" _

_ Kurt nodded. "And moreover, I don't want to hold you back from anything. I know us, Blaine. I know what we're like. If I looked at your college packet, I'd immediately start rewriting my applications so that I could apply to wherever it is you are. And I know you'd do the same if you looked at mine. So why don't we wait until we hear back from the colleges, then we can talk about it and make a decision." _

_ So they filled out their applications separately, and when acceptance letters started coming out, they sat on Blaine's bed and decided what they were going to do with their lives. _

_ "I know where I'm going," Kurt started. "I got into NYU and I sent them my acceptance confirmation this morning," His voice was quiet, and he had a hard time looking at Blaine. _

_ Blaine nodded slowly, trying not to panic. "I…I could see if they'd let me in on a late application? My councilor said sometimes they make exceptions and—"_

_ Kurt felt himself start to smile; a sort of sad, understanding, wistful smile. They were growing up, and it was scary. He looked at Blaine and shook his head. _

_ "No," Kurt said, sighing. "This is why we didn't tell each other where we were applying. If you didn't apply there, it means you don't really want to go there." _

_ "I want to go wherever it is you are," Blaine pleaded. He had to find a way to make Kurt understand. _

_ "Nothing is going to change between us," Kurt promised. _

* * *

><p>Kurt hadn't realized how much he had missed being close to Blaine until he was. He missed the way Blaine would peek through his dark lashes, and the way he would press his hands hard against Kurt's back, pulling him in closer. He missed how he <em>knew<em> Blaine; how he knew all the components—the quirks, the common knowledge, the side that no one but Kurt got to see.

Now though, lying next to Blaine, watching him sleep, he wondered if he'd known him at all. At what point had Blaine started putting on a show? Or had he been doing it ever since they met?

* * *

><p><em>"Hey," Kurt slid into the chair opposite Blaine, who was staring intently at a piece of paper on the desk. He didn't look up; instead, he sighed and mumbled out a quick "hello". <em>

_ "Is everything okay?" Kurt asked worriedly. Blaine didn't say anything immediately. Instead, he pushed the paper across the desk towards Kurt. _

_ "Oh, Blaine," Kurt reached out for his hand. "It's just a C. You've aced everything else." Blaine shrugged and looked down at his lap. _

_ "I'm sorry," he mumbled. Kurt shook his head _

_ "Why are you sorry? It's fine. It's no big deal. You shouldn't be beating yourself up over this. Anyways, it's kind of my fault; I've been keeping you up late." Kurt smiled shyly, his cheeks tinting a soft red. _

_ Blaine sighed and put the paper back into his bag. _

_ "My parents are going to be pissed," he said. "I…I probably won't be able to hang out this weekend." He wouldn't look at Kurt. "I'm really sorry." _

_ "Oh," Kurt felt his face fall a little. "But we were going to—" he stopped when he saw the look on Blaine's face. He wasn't sure what to make if it; there was anger, frustration, a little bit of hurt, and something else, all woven together. _

_ "I'm sorry," Blaine said again. "I should probably get going; I've got a math test tomorrow." He stood up and grabbed his coat off the chair. Kurt quickly pushed his chair back as well. _

_ "Here, I'll walk with you," he offered, reaching out to take Blaine's jacket for him. _

_ Blaine shook his head, still not meeting Kurt's eyes. "It's alright. It's probably better if you don't." It didn't sound mean; rather, it sounded sad and apologetic. "I'll try to call you later." _

_ Kurt knew Blaine wasn't saying these things to hurt him, but it didn't keep it from stinging. He watched as Blaine slipped out the door and disappeared down the hallway. Making a snap-decision, Kurt quickly followed after him. _

_ "Blaine," he called, not caring that there were still classes going on. "Wait—"_

_ "Kurt," Blaine turned around, his face flushed. "I've really got to go. My mom's waiting. I'll call you later." His voice was firm and it was the first time he'd ever snapped at Kurt. Blaine's frustration was replaced with a guilty look; he shifted his bag on his shoulder and looked worriedly towards the parking lot. _

_ "I'm sorry." _

* * *

><p><em> Kurt was bad at waiting. He always had been, and the half hour that he spent waiting for Blaine to call nearly killed him. He waited it out for another hour or so before letting himself give in and dial Blaine's number. It was so familiar, the muscle memory engraved in his hands and his mind; the rout that his fingers tapped out on his phone. <em>

_ It rang three times before Blaine picked up, his voice quiet and soft, sounding a little mumbled and anxious. _

_ "Hey," he breathed into the phone, glad that Blaine had picked up. "I just wanted to make sure that everything with your parents…" his voice trailed off. He was unsure of exactly what to say. All he knew was that Blaine's parents were very, very strict about grades. As far as what kind of punishment they gave, Kurt wasn't sure _

_ "Um, yeah," Blaine sighed. "I'm fine. Don't worry about it. They weren't happy, but I mean…" there was a rustling noise, sounding like Blaine had pressed his cheek against the receiver. _

_ "I'm actually sort of…well, I'm kind of grounded," he said, sounding a little nervous. "I'm really, really sorry, Kurt. I know we were going to go out, but my parents sort of have me under house arrest." He took a shaky breath. "Please don't be mad. I'm really sorry." _

_ "Why would I be mad?" Kurt smiled into the phone. "It's fine, don't worry about it. We can do it another time." _

_ Blaine was silent; the only sound Kurt would hear was the scratchy breaths on the other end of the line. _

_ "Blaine?" He asked, his voice lilting a little at the end. _

_ "Yeah?" _

_ "I love you." _

_ There was a second of pause. _

_ "Love you too, Kurt." _

* * *

><p>Blaine woke slowly; his eyes fluttering open and then closing again, until, at last, they landed on Kurt. It was a nice feeling, waking up in the arms of someone who loved you, someone who could protect you and keep you save, even from yourself. Kurt felt the slight shift of Blaine's body, and noticed the absence of the lullaby breaths Blaine made when he was sleeping. Smiling to himself, he gently stroked the back of Blaine's hand, trying to think of what to say.<p>

"Thank you," Blaine was the first to speak, his voice so soft Kurt could barely hear it. Kurt grinned into his pillow and quickly pressed a soft kiss behind Blaine's ear.

"For what?" He asked.

"For…everything, I guess." Blaine turned so that he was looking up into Kurt's eyes. "Thank you for being here for me, and for sticking it out. Thank you for picking me, and loving me. I…I really don't deserve any of it."

The contentedness and sleepiness that had over taken Kurt seemed to vanish. Fear seemed to replace it; coursing through his veins, touching every part of his body. What made Blaine think that? Kurt tried to keep his face as steady as possible, hoping not to scare Blaine.

"Blaine," he started off. "Why…why do you say those things? You don't believe them, do you?" He watched as Blaine seemed to withdraw a little bit.

"I…I guess I just don't understand," Blaine finally said, his eyes refusing to meet Kurt's. "I don't understand why you'd take someone as broken as me. You don't need me. I don't have anything to give you, or to give _us_."

Kurt took a deep breath and tried to think of how to explain his feelings.

"You give me everything, Blaine. I…I want you to know that, alright?" Blaine nodded, still not looking at Kurt.

"Can I ask you something?"

Blaine nodded again.

"When you…" Kurt hesitated for a moment. "When you tried to…to kill yourself," he said, shakily. "Did you ever think about what it would do to me?"

Blaine sat there for a moment, his steady breaths becoming more and more staggered. Finally, he nodded, just barely moving his head.

"Right…right before," he said, quietly. "I was so…overwhelmed. It felt like I was never going to be happy again. I was sitting in the bathroom; I'd been there for a while, trying to…decide, I guess, if I should do it. And right before I did, I thought about you. I remembered the last time I'd talked to you."

* * *

><p><em>It was nearly midnight. Blaine had been in the library, trying to study for an economics test he had coming up. He was tired, but not the kind that would go away. It had been pestering him, growing, budding, blooming, for ages now. It was as if his whole body had just given up. Happiness seemed like a fairy-tale dream, like something that would never come true. <em>

_ Hesitantly, he reached into his pocket for his phone. He felt bad about always calling Kurt so late. He had tried to apologize a couple of times, only to have Kurt sigh lightly and remind him that he could call whenever he needed to talk. Sometimes, it felt as if Kurt was too good to be real. _

_ He quickly pressed the call button before he could talk himself out of it. He knew he was needy, but right now all he wanted was something that would make him feel better. The phone rang a couple times before he heard it pick up. For a moment, all that he could make out was the sound of shouting and laughter. He checked the screen to make sure he called the right number. _

_ "Hello?" He heard Kurt's voice a little loud against his ear. "Blaine? Hold on a second; let me go somewhere quieter." _

_ Blaine didn't say anything, already wondering if maybe he shouldn't have called. It was clear he was interrupting something. He bit his lip and tried to ignore the feeling of hopelessness that was washing over him. _

_ "Blaine," Kurt sounded a little out of breath. The noise in the background had dimmed somewhat. "Is everything alright?" _

_ "Yeah," Blaine's voice was shaky. "I just…wanted to hear your voice." _

_ Kurt smiled into the phone, trying to picture Blaine. Was he in bed? Was he outside in the hallway so as not to wake his roommate?_

_ "I'm glad you called," he said, softly. "I miss you a lot." _

_ Neither of them said anything for a minute. _

_ "Do…do you need to go?" Blaine squeezed his eyes together, hoping Kurt would say no. "It sounded like you were in the middle of something—"_

_ "It's fine," Kurt said. "I'd rather talk to you anyways." _

_ Blaine took a deep breath. _

_ "Kurt…" he tried. "I…I really wish you were here." _

_ "Do you want me to come?" Kurt always asked this. "I could be there by the time the sun comes up," he could almost hear the smile in Kurt's voice. "We could get coffee and cut class together." _

_ Blaine let out a shaky laugh. _

_ "You…you don't have to do that. I just…I really wish I could hold you." _

_ Kurt made a humming noise, soft and low. _

_ "Where are you?" He finally asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He wanted to picture Blaine. _

_ "I'm…right outside the library." _

_ "What? It's nearly midnight!" _

_ "I know…I have a test tomorrow." _

_ "You really should get some sleep." _

_ "It's hard," Blaine sighed. "It's hard sleeping." _

_ Kurt let out a light laugh. "I dream of you; that helps me a lot. It makes it so I never want to wake up again." _

_ Blaine felt himself blush a little. _

_ "Kurt…there's something I want to tell you." He slowly sank to the ground, his heart racing. This was the first time he'd ever thought about telling someone. But now that he'd started, he couldn't stop. He needed someone to know. He needed Kurt to know. _

_ "What's that?" Kurt sounded a little concerned; maybe he'd been able to detect the urgency in Blaine's voice. _

_ "Um…it's just that…I don't even know where to start…" Blaine pressed his cheek against the cold marble. "Recently…well, actually, for a little while now, I've sort of…I don't really know how to explain it…it's just that I've been feeling kind of…I don't know…it's just that I really need—"_

_ "Kurt!" He heard someone shout in the background, and the sound of footsteps got louder. _

_ "Hold on a second, Blaine," Kurt's voice was soft and sweet. "I'm really sorry; this will just take a minute." _

_ "Kurt," Blaine could hear the person's voice again, louder this time. "We were wondering where you went. Who are you—?"_

_ "I'm on the phone with my boyfriend. I'll be back in just a second." _

_ Blaine heard the sound of footsteps growing softer and softer. There was a rustling noise as Kurt pressed the phone to his ear again. _

_ "I'm so sorry," he said. "Tell me what you were about to say." _

_ Blaine took a deep breath. _

_ "I just wanted to…are you…are you happy?" _

_ Kurt smiled into the phone. _

_ "I'm very happy, Blaine. Are you?" _

_ No, Blaine thought. I'm miserable without you. I need you. I need you to help me. I need you to see what's going on. I'm not okay. I don't even know what's wrong. I don't know how to explain myself; or even if it's worth trying. I need someone to see that I'm broken, to realize that I can't do this on my own. _

_ "I…I miss you." _

_ Blaine felt himself start to cry. He bit down on his jacket, trying to keep quiet. He didn't want Kurt to hear. _

_ "I miss you too, Blaine. Are you sure everything's alright?" The kindness in Kurt's voice nearly did it. It nearly siphoned out the truth. He nearly gave in and broke down right there. Instead, he wiped his eyes on his sleeve and sat up a little straighter. _

_ "I…I'm lonely." _

_ It felt so good to say it, to get it out in the open. He almost laughed a little, the small amount of relief passing through his body, warming places that had been cold for so long. _

_ He heard Kurt's breath hitch a little, realizing a second later that Kurt was crying, too. He hadn't meant for this; he hadn't meant to make Kurt cry. Kurt was upset and it was all his fault. He had to make it right again. He had to. He couldn't let Kurt, who was so beautiful, so wonderful, ever be hurt. He was a monster making an angel cry._

_ "Don't cry," he pleaded, knowing it was a weak attempt at comfort. "Please don't cry, Kurt. I didn't mean to upset you. Please—"_

_ "I'm not upset," Kurt's voice was broken. "I just wish I could make it better." He let out a little gasp. "Blaine…what can I do? Tell me what you need." _

_ Blaine felt disgusted with himself. This wasn't Kurt's problem. Blaine had screwed up. He was weak and frightened and a coward. But now, on top of all that, he had somehow, for some selfish reason, dragged Kurt into this whole mess. _

_ "You don't have to do anything," he said, quietly. It was as if the storm inside his head had stopped. There wasn't anything standing in his way. Like how a tornado blows through and clears everything in its path, making a road for him to follow. _

_Blaine felt relieved, almost. It didn't scare him. He knew it was the right thing to do. It was right for both of them. He wouldn't hurt anymore, he wouldn't feel anymore. But most importantly, he would never be able to hurt his angel or hold him back anymore. It was right for both of them. _

_His mind seemed clearer now. He could think. Wiping the last of the tears from his eyes, he chose his words carefully, wondering if this was the last thing he was going to say to Kurt. _

"_I love you," he said, quietly. "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, Kurt. I want you to know that, okay?" _

_ Kurt hesitated. He knew something was wrong. He'd known for a while that things weren't right with Blaine. It had started with a little bit of stress and had slowly escalated to a breaking point. But the problem was that he _wanted_ to believe that everything okay. He never wanted to see Blaine hurt. He never wanted to see him broken. He was blinded by hope. _

_ "I love you, too. I always will," he said. _


	7. Chapter 7

**So, so sorry this has taken me so long. I hope you all haven't gotten too bored waiting around and decided to abandon this! GLEE'S BACK! I didn't have time to watch it, but my friend said it's very Blaine-centric which makes me happy. Comment if you can, it would make me very happy. I always love to hear the things you say. :) **

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><p>It was so unlike Blaine to be shy. There were times, however, when Kurt noticed Blaine retreat, silent and gentle. On these rare occasions, there were two types of quiet. There was the sad, disappointed quiet. It was the quiet that scared Kurt the most; the one that seemed to swallow and engulf, surround and capture. The other type was a sweet, cautious kind of quiet. It was the one Kurt liked; the kind of quiet that Blaine settled into as he woke up. When his eyelids fluttered open and saw Kurt smiling down at him, prompting a rosy blush to spread across Blaine's cheeks and he'd reach for the covers, pulling them a little higher until they brushed under his chin.<p>

"So," Blaine whispered, his eyes wide and hesitant. "Should we talk about this now?"

Kurt smiled softly and shook his head, letting his eyelashes flutter on Blaine's skin.

"Not yet," he said. "Right now is prefect…we'll talk soon enough."

* * *

><p><em>The alarm clock next to Blaine's desk was going haywire. It felt as if he had just lain down to sleep; his eyelids were still heavy from crying, his body exhausted. Fumbling to turn it off, Blaine rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Everything that had happened last night, everything that he had said to Kurt on the phone, came flooding back to him. Another wave of hopelessness and shame washed over him, salt in already open wounds. <em>

_ At least he had a plan. Blaine always liked plans. They made him feel so much better about things, as if there was a purpose or meaning. Sighing, Blaine forced himself out of bed and into the shower. _

_ The rest of the day moved in the same fashion. He went to his foreign policy class. He answered a question correctly. He went to lunch. He got a sandwich and took it outside. He liked to eat outside. It reminded him of when he and Kurt used to sneak away at break, away from everything else. Even if it was just for a moment, it made him feel better. _

_ He had another class that afternoon. He almost skipped it. What was the point anyways? But in the end he went, simply because he had nothing else to do. He was planning on going back to the dorm and just doing it, just getting it over with. But then Wes came up and slapped him on the back, grinning and laughing, pulling him along down the hallway. It was something about a study group. Midterms were coming up. _

_ Blaine was good at pretending. He pretended that he was okay. He pretended like he was going to take the midterms. He pretended he didn't feel well. He told them he was just going to go to bed. Instead, he found his way back to his dorm. He found his way into the bathroom. He found a razor. He contemplated calling Kurt one more time. It was tempting, really, really tempting. _

_ But he knew Kurt was probably asleep. He wondered if Kurt dreamt. Sometimes, back when they were in high school, Kurt would call him in the middle of the night to tell him about some nightmare he had. Blaine was a good listener. He liked to listen to Kurt talk; the voice of an angel, sweet and soft, light and musical. _

_ If Kurt still dreamt, Blaine hoped that they were sweet dreams. No more nightmares. _

_ So Blaine closed his phone. He imagined everything instead. He imagined the sound of Kurt's voice. But not the voice he'd heard recently, the panicked, anxious, worried voice. Instead, he imagined the voice from so long ago. It was the one that Kurt would use early in the morning, calling him on the way to school. It was the one that he could listen to for hours, laid out across Kurt's bed, as close as he'd ever been to carefree. _

_ He tried to imagine the way Kurt's skin would feel, soft and warm, radiating with that joy and excitement he brought with him. He tried to imagine what Kurt would say to him if he was there, sitting down next to Blaine on the cold floor of the bathroom. Kurt would probably say something sweet, comforting. He might tell Blaine that it would all be okay, everything would be okay. Words like a lullaby, words like raindrops. _

_ He would probably be worried if he saw Blaine like this, broken and hopeless. He would probably not be able to sleep; instead, staying up late, holding Blaine's hand until he felt better. Blaine knew that this was supposed to be a good thing, having someone who would always be there for him, someone who would always look after him, care for him. But he knew that it was limitless, what Kurt was willing to do for him. Limitless to the point of reckless. _

_ It would be better like this; Blaine going away, slipping away, out of Kurt's reach. It was necessary he do it now before Kurt became too attached, before he latched on to hard. He couldn't let himself bring Kurt down with him. He needed to go away quietly, silently, before he could do any more harm. _

* * *

><p>"That was nice," Blaine broke the silence. "We hadn't done that in a while."<p>

Kurt felt himself grin into Blaine's shoulder, trying to hide the involuntary blush overtaking him. Blaine pushed himself up a little, propping himself up on the pillows.

"Never go back," Kurt's voice was light and joking, but underneath it all, there was a note of seriousness. "Stay with me forever. Stay here where I can keep you safe."

Blaine sighed, his whole body sinking into the sheets. "You can't keep me safe forever, Kurt. You shouldn't have to."

Kurt raised his head, blue eyes peaking up. "I want to," his voice was firm and final. "I want to keep you safe for as long as I can. I know I can't protect you from everything, maybe I can't even protect you from half of whatever is out there, but if there's something, anything, I can do, I'll do it."

It was something that Kurt had wanted to say for a while, something he felt like Blaine should know. Blaine smiled sleepily at him and shook his head.

"I still have to go back," he said. "I can't just lie around your apartment. I want to spend forever with you, Kurt. I want to do it all—get married, buy a house, get a dog, have a kid…maybe two. To do all that I'll need a job, I'll need some way to support us. To get a job, I have to go back to school," he leaned forward and planted a kiss on Kurt's forehead. "But it's okay. It's for us."

Kurt sat there for a moment. It was a feeling of happiness, of relief and pure exhilaration. It was almost too good to be true. Carefully, cautiously, Kurt met Blaine's gaze.

"You really want all that?"

"Yes," Blaine answered immediately.

"Well…why don't you transfer? Maybe you could find a school that is more your style. Maybe you could switch majors, take something you like, that you enjoy."

"Kurt," Blaine sighed. "It's fine. Don't worry about me, okay?" He reached out for Kurt's hands.

Kurt took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "It's just that…all that stuff you want, marriage, the house, the kids…I want it to. And I don't want it with just anybody, okay? I want it with you." He ran his fingers along the lines on Blaine's palm.

"And I can't have it with you," he said. "I can't have it with you if you're not here."

Blaine's face broke into a smile.

"I'll come back once college is over. I'll move in with you then. We can get an apartment together, or maybe stay in this one. We can fight about whose turn it is to take out the trash and—"

"No," Kurt cut him off. "I meant, if you're not _here_. If you're not alive."

Blaine looked away, his face closing off. Kurt felt his face flush and stared down at their hands, intertwined on the bedspread. He could see the scars across Blaine's wrists, silvery-white whispers.

"Kurt, I—" Blaine started and then stopped himself. "I'm _so_, so sorry."

"No, Blaine," Kurt's voice surprised himself. It was frustration, tinged with a bit of anger. He stopped himself for a moment, trying to calm down, smooth out his voice. "Blaine," he tried again. "I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to never, ever, _ever_, feel so bad that you want to…want to kill yourself. I want you to be happy."

The room was quiet.

"If…if I told my parents I was dropping out of Harvard, they wouldn't have any reason to care about me anymore." Blaine's voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper. "And if my parents didn't care about me, if they didn't love me…I mean, how am I supposed to be happy?"

* * *

><p>"Can you learn to be happy?" Blaine played with the wrapper on his jolly rancher. They reminded him of being little. Every time he went to the doctor's office and had to get a shot, the nurse would give him a watermelon-flavored jolly rancher to suck on. He would squeeze his eyes shut and bite his lip, his stomach turning in nervous anticipation. When the shot finally came, it didn't hurt all that much. It was the waiting that was so scary.<p>

"Well," his therapist leaned back and thought for a moment. "I think that you can teach yourself how to see the world in a way that will make you happy. I think that there are things you can do that could, possibly, make you happier." She studied him for a moment. "What makes you happy?"

"I guess…making other people happy makes me happy. People that I care about," he clarified. "Like Kurt."

"And your parents?"

"Yeah, them too."

"Have you ever thought that maybe it's not your responsibility to make them happy? Just like it's your job to make yourself happy, it's their job to make themselves happy."

"But how am I supposed to be happy if someone I love is angry or disappointed in me?" Blaine's voice shook a little. He suddenly felt small, exposed, vulnerable.

"If they really love you, Blaine, which I'm sure they do, they will get over it. Anger and disappointment don't last forever. Think of a time you fought with Kurt, a time that you were angry with him."

Blaine thought for a moment. There had been plenty of fights between the two of them. Their relationship was in no way perfect. Yet it was the imperfections, the flaws, which seemed to make their relationship strong.

"Okay," Blaine said.

"Now are you still mad at him? When you see him, is it the first thing you think of?"

Blaine shook his head.

"Then why would it be any different with you? I bet when Kurt looks at you he doesn't think of all the times you've fought or all the times you've disappointed him. I bet he sees all your perfections, all the things he loves about you. Just like the way you see him."

* * *

><p>The walk back to Kurt's apartment was nice. The streetlights looked so pretty in the nighttime. When he opened the door, he felt his cheeks begin to tingle from the warmth. He could hear Kurt in the kitchen, singing along with the radio as he made dinner. Silently, he watched as Kurt leaned over the counter to play with the volume, turning it up a little higher.<p>

It was then that he saw Blaine standing there. The whole room smelled good, homely and warm. Smiling, Kurt pulled him into the kitchen with him and held him close, planting a firm kiss on his cheek.

After they'd eaten dinner, Kurt curled up on the sofa to finish an assignment while Blaine lay on the floor reading a book. Noiselessly, Kurt reached his hand down, brushing his fingertips along Blaine's arm. Silently, Blaine shifted his hand to meet Kurt's.

It was so comfortable, so familiar. Blaine couldn't help but wonder if this could really be it. Maybe he had found his forever. Maybe this was all he would ever need.

* * *

><p><em>It hurt a little bit. Not as much as he was expecting, actually, but it hurt enough for tears. Hot, salty tears that ran down his cheeks and splashed onto his lap. His fingers were starting to go numb, cold lacing his arms, making a hazy sort of cocoon around his body. <em>

_ He should have left a letter for Kurt. He should have explained it all to him, found some way to say goodbye, some way to tell Kurt how much he loved him. But there really was no way to say that. He had been trying ever since that day when he realized that the feelings he had for Kurt were love; each time, though, the words hadn't come together right. There were several times, like the time at prom or those stolen moments hidden away at their spot, when Blaine had managed to come close to telling Kurt what he felt. In the end, though, he was never able to pinpoint the exact feeling._

* * *

><p>"If I didn't go back," Blaine turned his head slightly so he was looking up at Kurt. They had been lying there for so long that their hands had gone numb. "What would I do?"<p>

Kurt smiled and shrugged, his pencil poised over the paper. "Anything you want. Maybe you could study music. You really have some talent, Blaine. And I see the way you…come to life, I guess, when you sing."

"My parents would never pay for me to study music. Besides teaching, music jobs are pretty hard to come by."

"If it makes you happy," Kurt ran his thumb over Blaine's palm. "We would find a way for you to be able to study music."

"We?" Blaine peaked up through his lashes at Kurt. They had never really talked about themselves in this context before; the context of adulthood and choices. The context of building a life, building a home.

"You and me," Kurt clarified.

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><p><strong>Question: I think in the past I put in some Kurt-Blaine moment memories (like memories from their relationship as youngsters and such)...should I do more? I have a few ideas for some that could move the plot along but do you guys prefer for me to stay in the present (with them as of now in New York?) Thanks :) hope you enjoyed.<br>**


	8. Chapter 8

**So sorry about the long wait. Things are crazy right now! Hopefully they'll settle down soon. Hope you enjoy! **

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><p>The phone had been sitting on the desk, almost daring Blaine to pick it up. Every time he reached out to, however, something stopped him. Things could work the way they always had. It was a fluke, the whole thing. He had a moment of weakness, a moment of fear and insecurity. But now he understood; he had grown and learned from his experience. He knew Kurt loved him. He knew that Kurt was worth living for. He understood that now.<p>

So really this wasn't necessary. Going back to Harvard would be _fine_. His parents had even said that he could cut his work load, maybe drop a class or two. He could just go out to the kitchen and start making dinner. Kurt was going to be home any minute now, probably hungry and tired from his classes. Blaine could tell him over dinner, tell him that he wouldn't be staying.

He knew that Kurt would understand. In the end, Kurt always understood.

The phone rang. Blaine jumped, startled, and then cautiously reached out for it, pressing it against his ear.

"Hello?" His voice was nervous and breathy.

"Blaine, it's me." Kurt sounded hurried. "Listen, I'm coming home right now, but I wanted to give you a call and see how you were doing."

"Oh," Blaine felt a streak of panic rush through him. Now he would have to tell Kurt that he simply couldn't do it. He would have to let Kurt down again.

"Um, actually," he tried again, clearing his throat. "Kurt, I can't." He felt his shoulders shake a little, his entire body tensed up, waiting for Kurt's reaction.

There was a quiet moment. Blaine could hear the rush of the city in the background.

"Oh, Blaine," it wasn't disappointment in Kurt's voice, it was concern. "I'll be home in just a minute, okay?"

"Okay," Blaine whispered back.

* * *

><p>When Kurt opened the door to the apartment fifteen minutes later, Blaine was still sitting on the bed, the phone in his lap. Kurt took if his coat and hung it up in the closet before sitting down next to Blaine.<p>

"You don't have to do this," he said, reaching out for Blaine's hand. "I mean, I think you should stay here with me, and take time off. But you don't have to."

Blaine sat there for a moment, sighing before resting his head on Kurt's shoulder.

"I want to stay here forever with you. Kurt, I—" he stopped himself, trying to think of the best way to put it. "I just can't screw up anymore."

"What do you mean by that?" Kurt looked a little worried. "You haven't screwed up at all." He held Blaine's gaze, trying to communicate something deeper than the words coming out of his mouth.

"It's just that I want my parents to be happy with me," Blaine mumbled, playing with a loose thread on the covers.

"I feel like we're going in circles here," Kurt tried to smile. "We keep coming back to this. Have you told them what you want to do?"

"I don't even know what I want to do."

"Well maybe you should start there then."

"What do you mean?"

Kurt smiled to himself and reached out to touch Blaine's cheek.

"What did you want to be when you were little?"

"That's easy," Blaine said, rolling his eyes. "I wanted to be a zoo keeper. Doesn't every five year-old want to be a zoo keeper?"

"Not me," Kurt said, trying to picture Blaine feeding a lion.

"What did you want to be?"

"A Prince," Kurt said, flashing Blaine a quick smile.

"Well you're my prince, now," Blaine said, tackling him into the sheets.

"Forever and ever?" Kurt whispered.

"Forever and ever."

* * *

><p>The phone call was forgotten, lost in a stream of kisses and whispers, buried beneath the feeling of security, drowned by the rush of the moment. It wasn't until hours later that Kurt rolled onto his side to get a better look at Blaine, his mind still trying to wrap around what lay in front of them.<p>

"We can't keep doing this," he murmured, tracing patters on Blaine's back.

"Doing what?" Blaine's voice was muffled, his cheek pressed against the side of a pillow.

"You know…" Kurt blushed. "Every time we come close to an answer, a solution, we kind of…"

"Get side tracked?"

"Well…yeah," Kurt felt his face flush a little. "I'm not saying I don't like it," he said, quickly. "I just think it's a little…counterproductive."

"Probably," Blaine said sleepily.

Kurt leaned over, pressing kisses along Blaine's neck, one arm snaking around, holding tightly to Blaine's body.

"You know," he said quietly. "I never thought about what I would do without you until that night that Wes called, telling me what happened. The whole drive to Boston I kept thinking about how it would feel if they told me you were gone forever. It was so weird because as I was thinking about it, I kept feeling _nothing_. And that worried me. It worried me because I was afraid it meant that there was something wrong with me, that for some reason, I was incapable of feeling. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that maybe it's not that. Maybe it's the opposite. Maybe it's that I can't imagine what it would be like to lose you. If someone were to tell me that I would never see you again, or wake up to the sound of you singing in the shower, I wouldn't _understand_. I honestly wouldn't even be able to comprehend that idea."

Blaine could feel himself start to cry, soft tears running down his face. They were strange tears; so many emotions flooding his body at one. He could feel it; the words left it there to embrace him: knowledge that he was loved, that someone really, honestly, truly loved him.

Kurt felt Blaine's shoulders start to shake in that way they did when he cried. But he could feel it too; these were good tears. They were fresh and clear like rain, washing away scars and hurt that had built up for so long. Kurt cleared his throat and leaned in closer, speaking slowly, choosing his words carefully.

"And the other day I was thinking, what would be the difference between you dying and us breaking up and moving on? What if we had a huge fight, something that was so unfixable that you left me, or I left you? And we would go our own ways and never speak again. What if that was it and I never saw you again? What would the difference be between that and you dying?"

The words were tumbling out faster and faster. Thoughts that Kurt hadn't even contemplated began to pour out in front of him.

"And then it hit me. The difference would be that if we broke up, and I never saw you again, at least I would know you were out there. One of my worst fears is that you are going to find someone else, someone who's funnier, or cuter; someone who understands you in a way that perhaps I don't, someone who can give you more than I can. But I would rather you find that person and leave me, knowing that I wouldn't ever see you again, than have you die. Because even though the end result is the same for _me_, I can't imagine a world without you."

The room was silent. Kurt could hear Blaine's shaky breaths, the sound of him wiping his eyes on the blanket.

"What I guess I'm trying to say is that I don't care what you do, so long as you promise me you won't ever leave me in a world without you."

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><p><strong>PS: If any of you guys read or write One Direction fanfiction (particularly LouisHarry) would you mind leaving me a comment or PMing me with a recommendation? It's kind of my new addiction :) thanks! **


	9. Chapter 9

**This is dedicated to the very persistent anon who has been waiting ages. So sorry it has taken so long. This diverged from the last chapter a little, but hopefully you enjoy where it's going! :) **

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><p>The plane ticket sat unopened in the pile of mail. Kurt had watched as Blaine flittered by it a few times, on the way to the coffee pot, coming back from his jog around the neighborhood. But it just sat there, unopened.<p>

Harvard had called…twice. The messages were on the answering machine, begging to be returned, but Kurt hadn't been able to find time to do it. The first was from the head of undergraduate admissions, expressing his wishes that Blaine would come back, but understanding if he wasn't up to it already. He had also said that they wouldn't be able to hold Blaine's spot much longer, what with the start of the new semester and the long list of transfer students who had applied. Kurt found himself wanting to punch something after listening to it.

The second message was from the school psychiatrist, wondering if Blaine would be returning, and explaining that there were plenty of qualified doctors, nurses, and psychologists on campus, should he feel the need to see one after returning to school. This message was a little sweeter, and Kurt found himself feeling a little grateful to the woman who'd called.

There'd been other messages as well. Wes had called more than a few times, wanting to see how Blaine was doing. He said that the room was lonely with just himself in it, and that he hoped Blaine was doing alright. But all these messages went unanswered. Kurt made sure to tell Blaine that they had called, but really, they both felt that calling back would simply be crossing a bridge that they didn't want to cross quite yet.

* * *

><p>Kurt's classes took up a lot of time even though he'd cut back a little. Blaine spent way too much time at the apartment alone. Kurt tried to think of some way to change it, but he couldn't. So he often just sat through class worrying over whether or not Blaine was alright. Usually, he'd come home to find Blaine spread out on the living room floor, pen and paper in hand, doodling, writing, solving the math problems from Kurt's pre-requist math class that he hadn't yet gotten around to finishing.<p>

It was nice having him there. Kurt had gotten so used to it. It felt so official to say, "sorry, I can't, I have to go home; Blaine's expecting me to make dinner," whenever someone asked him out to study after class was over. It felt good to walk into his apartment and hear the shower running, or wake up in the morning to Blaine making French toast for the two of them. So Kurt didn't say anything, in part because he never wanted it to change.

Blaine's therapist hadn't said much on the topic. She did say that if Blaine were to go back to school, it would be best for him to continue counseling, but apart from that, the situation was out of her hands. Kurt was a little angry with her for not making Blaine stay, but he knew that there really was nothing more she could do about the matter.

* * *

><p>A few nights before Blaine was scheduled to go back, Kurt walked into the apartment to find him flat out on the hardwood floor, the radio playing in the corner, his socked feet tapping against the side of the couch. Kurt smiled to himself a little as he walked over, dropping his stuff on the table.<p>

"What are you doing?" He smiled as he tried to sneak a peak at Blaine's paper.

"Catching up," Blaine mumbled, his pencil tapping against his chin. "Do you know how much I'm behind? The class has covered four chapters since I've left."

Kurt squinted at the page.

"How did you even get this?"

"I had Wes email it to me. He scanned it from the library."

"_What_ is this?" Kurt tried to remember the last time he'd taken a science class.

"Organic chemistry."

"I thought you were a political science major?"

"I am. This is just graduation requirement; you know, science credits."

"Why didn't you just take astrology or something?"

"I thought that this would be interesting."

Kurt sighed and sat down next to Blaine.

"We really need to talk about this."

"Chemistry?"

"No," Kurt sighed. "We need to talk about whether or not you're going back to Harvard on Sunday."

"I am."

"So you've decided?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

Blaine flipped the page over and continued the problem all down the backside. The numbers and symbols blurred together in Kurt's eyes.

"Well…I guess I'll start dinner."

"Okay," Blaine hummed, still concentrated on the problem.

"Right then," Kurt stood up. The radio was still playing. It was a song that he and Blaine used to sing in the car together.

"Kurt?" Blaine looked up for a moment, his lashes all dark and pretty against his skin. Kurt nodded, instinctively; getting that typical rush of nerves that hit him whenever Blaine looked at him like that.

" You've not angry at me, are you? For going, I mean?"

Kurt sighed and shook his head. No, he wasn't angry. He was worried, but not angry. Blaine seemed satisfied and turned back to his problem. The song on the radio switched, and Kurt set the water on to boil.

* * *

><p>Saturday came quicker than Kurt had expected. Blaine hadn't even packed yet. Not really, at least. Half his clothes were still either in the washing machine, or strewn about the apartment. Kurt didn't say anything, though. He didn't want Blaine to pack away into a little box. He didn't want his apartment to be empty again. In fact, had hadn't realized how empty his apartment had been until Blaine came along and filled it.<p>

Kurt had wanted to do something special, something to mark their last day together in what might be a while. But when he proposed the idea, Blaine had simply shook his head.

"I'd love to, you know I would, but I just have a lot of work to finish before I go back."

So Kurt spent the day watching Blaine read about modern warfare and the different types of economies in Europe. When they went to bed, he fell asleep to the sound of Blaine's breathing. He counted each breath, remembering to be thankful for each one.

* * *

><p>The airport was busy. Kurt wished that it wasn't so. He wanted to say a proper goodbye to Blaine, not one that was interrupted by screeching babies and lost old grandmothers who gave the two of them the evil eye. So they did their goodbyes in the parking garage where the taxi had let them out. Blaine gave Kurt a kiss and his key back, but Kurt just shook his head.<p>

"You'll use it when you come to visit me," he said. "Which better be soon."

Blaine smiled, but there was something distant about him already. It was something that had been building for a while, and Kurt wasn't exactly sure what it meant.

"Is everything okay?" He asked. Blaine nodded.

"Yeah. Just a little nervous."

"You can call me anytime, you know that, right?" Blaine nodded.

"I should get going," he said half-heartedly.

He picked his backs up off the ground. "Love you," he whispered.

"I love you to," Kurt said quickly. "Don't forget it."

Blaine began to walk away, growing smaller and smaller. He was slipping into the crowd of people, and Kurt struggled to pinpoint him through the crowd. He watched as Blaine slipped through the automatic doors and into the airport.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks for all your lovely comments on the last chapter! Hope you enjoy this one! :) **

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><p>It was hard to focus. Kurt went back to his apartment and sat down on the floor. It felt weird being alone. There was something on the couch—Blaine's jacket, the flannel one with the missing button. Kurt sighed and hung it up in the closet. The last thing he needed was a reminder of the fact that Blaine was gone now.<p>

He thought about calling. Later, when it was nearly dinner time, and the sun was setting over the grey concrete, he picked up the phone and dialed. Blaine was sure to be back in his dorm now. But Kurt didn't. He didn't simply because he was unsure. It was as if Boston was a whole other world; it was as if the two places were separated by something more than miles. Kurt couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but it was there, lurking, hiding somewhere in the telephone wires.

Blaine would call. Kurt decided on that answer. He put the phone down on the table and began opening and closing cupboards, telling himself he was going to start dinner, but really just needing the noise to fill the emptiness of the room.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Kurt had an early class. He had forgotten about it, somewhere between the packing and the worry. He thought about not going, but he realized that was pointless. If Blaine had still been here, and the two of them could have stayed cuddled up in blankets and listened to the world rush by, then perhaps it would have been worth it. But to stay in the apartment by himself was certainly not worth it.<p>

Kurt yanked himself up and pushed himself out the door. It was cold out, the kind of weather where the air makes your nose hurt and your lips chapped. Kurt shoved his hands in his pocket and smiled. Maybe things were better after all.

* * *

><p>Sometime around noon, Blaine called. Kurt was sitting in his class, trying to focus on one of the performances on stage. It was hard to, what with the heater on and the fact that he had barely gotten any sleep the night before. He reached down to check the time on his phone, but realized that he'd left it at home. Sighing, he stole a glance at the ancient clock stuck above the flag. Twenty more minutes.<p>

Blaine sighed, pressing his thumb angrily into the end button. It wasn't Kurt's fault, he knew that. It wasn't Kurt's fault that Blaine was so needy and dependent. He couldn't be mad at Kurt. But he really just needed to talk to someone.

Wes had taken him out to dinner the night before. Blaine had found it all terribly embarrassing. Wes kept asking how Blaine was feeling every few seconds, and to be honest, Blaine wasn't feeling all that good. He didn't tell Wes though. Instead, he put a smile on his face and said that he was fine. Yes, he was fine, and no, he's not completely alright, but he's working on it. Spending time with Kurt was really just so helpful, and he thinks that he has something to live for now. Really, truly.

And this made Wes smile and drop the subject. Part of Blaine felt a little relieved, but the other part was screaming inside. Did people chose to be so blind? Could they really not see that he wasn't okay? Could Kurt not see it? Kurt mustn't have seen it, otherwise he wouldn't have let Blaine go. But it wasn't Kurt's fault. It could never be Kurt's fault.

So Blaine had called mainly to hear Kurt's voice, and to have someone whisper to him that it all would be alright. But after the third attempt he gave up and threw his phone across the room. It was almost noon and he had a class soon. The campus seemed quiet in comparison to New York. He missed the sound of taxis honking. He missed the smell of street food and the click-clack of high-heeled shoes on cement. He missed Kurt's little apartment and the stubborn door that refused to open. He really just missed Kurt.

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><p>Kurt got home sometime around three. He would've gotten back earlier except that some friends had wanted to go get coffee. They all had an idea as to what had been going on, but none of them really knew, and so the hour was spent explaining why he hadn't been around much, why he looked so tired, why Blaine wasn't with him anymore. By the time they were finished, Kurt just wanted a nap.<p>

The minute he got into the apartment, he stumbled over to the couch, kicking the door shut behind him. His eyes shut as his cheek hit the soft cushions. It smelled like Blaine.

When he woke up, the sun was already beginning to sink. He heard his neighbor shuffling around in the apartment next to his, vaguely wondering what time it was. His hand scuttled around the table for a moment, his head propped up lazily on one arm. Finally, his fingers came in contact with his phone. He had three missed calls from Blaine.

There was a rush of adrenaline. Kurt's first impulse was to call back immediately, but he stopped himself. He took a deep breath and counted to ten before dialing.

It dialed four times. Then there was a pause.

_"Hello, you've reached Blaine's cell phone. Sorry I can't take your call. I'm off doing important things, but if you leave me your name and number, I'll call you back as soon as possible." _


	11. Chapter 11

The bed covers smelled familiar. When Blaine had pulled them out from his suitcase, it was like releasing the smells and warmth of the past few weeks into the air. He tried to let it linger for a while but it dissipated, dissolving in wisps until it was all gone, leaving him standing in his old dorm room with the florescent lights and the twin closets and the small bathroom with the tiny sink and posters of places in Europe he'd love to go.

Wes was out for the afternoon. Blaine had the room to himself. He glanced over at the pile of homework on his desk—even with all the cramming he'd done over the past few days, he was way behind. It could wait though, he thought, checking his phone one more time for messages.

Blaine sighed and flipped over onto his stomach. He'd just close his eyes for a moment, he promised himself as his eyelids started to flutter shut. He could lay there forever.

When he woke up, the sun was beginning to set. Boston was so pretty. He got up and cracked open the window a bit, letting the cold air rush it. It felt nice against his face. He needed to get out, he needed to get away. So he grabbed a jacket and his keys.

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><p>He was hungry, and he contemplated food. There was a sandwich shop, a coffee house…he stopped at each one but each time it was too loud and too reminiscent of everything he'd tried to run away from. He ended up walking the campus. He recognized a few people and they waved a little over-enthusiastically, but Blaine thought it was sweet of them. He did feel a little self-conscious, however, when a boy from his government class came up and gave him a hug. He felt himself absentmindedly tugging his sleeves over his wrist.<p>

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><p>It was nearly nine o'clock when he got back to his dorm. By now the sun had completely set and the room was ice cold since the window had been open the whole time. Blaine closed it and crawled into bed, not bothering to change out of his clothes.<p>

He overslept the next morning, waking up only because Wes came out of the shower to find Blaine's alarm clock going haywire and promptly shook him until he woke up. Blaine was going to skip breakfast but Wes gave him a firm look and marched him to the dining hall where he gave Blaine way too much food and stared him down until he ate it all.

By the time he got to class, he was late, full, and embarrassed. The professor smiled at him as he slipped into a desk in the back row. He tried to pay attention but it was hard when there were fifty-nine pairs of eyes staring at you.

When the class ended, Blaine began gathering his stuff up. He was about to leave when his professor called him over.

"Anderson?"

Blaine made his way over to the professor's desk. He was an old man, very experienced and accomplished in his field of study. He was a little intimidating, too, at times, what with his owl-eyed glasses and lanky grasshopper sort of figure.

"I'm glad you're back," he said, sounding genuine but stern at the same time. "Take your time to catch up on the material."

Blaine nodded.

"There's going to be an exam this Friday. If you are feeling prepared you may take it with the class, if not, you may take it Monday."

Blaine nodded again. "Thank you, Doctor Stephens."

* * *

><p>By lunchtime, Blaine was exhausted. He only had one more class in the afternoon and it was very tempting to blow it off. Instead of lunch, he headed back to his room. He just needed a moment of quiet, a moment that wasn't filled with concerned eyes and stacks of paper.<p>

Sitting down on his bed, he realized that he hadn't checked his phone since last night. There were five missed calls, all from Kurt. Blaine swallowed. If he called Kurt now, Kurt would want to know how he was doing. Blaine didn't want to give him bad news. He would wait to call until he got things under control, until he could report that things at school were great, that his classes were great, that everything was great.

* * *

><p>Tuesday passed and he didn't call because he was positively swamped with homework. Wednesday was a mess because there had been a pop quiz and he wasn't up to date with the reading. So by Thursday, he had thirty-eight missed calls and twenty-two texts, all from Kurt.<p>

"You're phone's ringing…again," Wes called to him from their room. "Who is it you're avoiding?"

"I'm not avoiding anyone," Blaine sighed and poked his head out from the bathroom. "It's just Kurt. He probably wants to know how I'm doing."

"How _are_ you doing?" Wes sounded serious. Blaine shrugged.

"Alright, I suppose."

"You really should talk to him. That phone is going to vibrate itself off the side of the table if you don't."

"It's complicated."

"Did you guys have a fight or something?"

"No!" Blaine snatched up his phone and sighed, staring at the screen. "I just don't want to give him bad news. I'm waiting until things even out a bit, until there's some stability and I can tell him something good."

"You know, I bet he wants you to tell him the bad stuff," Wes nodded wisely from behind his computer. "That's what boyfriends are for."

"Kurt's heard enough bad stuff to last him a lifetime."

* * *

><p>They went down to dinner together. Wes seemed intent on getting Blaine to eat, sleep, and talk about his feelings. But in all honesty, it was really nice to have Wes looking out for him. They sat down at one of the tables in the corner. A girl from Blaine's government passed by, her head buried in a book.<p>

"Crap!" Blaine groaned, running his fingers through his hair. "I forgot about the test for Stephens!" He got up and made his way to the trashcan.

"Didn't he say you could take it Monday?" Wes got up as well, following cautiously as if afraid Blaine might yell at him. Blaine just shook his head.

"I should take it tomorrow. I'm already behind enough as it is."

Blaine was halfway through chapter nine when Wes kicked him out. The light from Blaine's lamp was piercingly bright and it was _one freaking o'clock_.

"Blaine, you know I love you, but could you please go to the library? I have a nine o'clock class." Wes flipped over so he was facing the wall. Blaine sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, sure, sorry," he said, gathering up his stuff.

This was all beginning to feel so familiar. His feet found their way through the dark hallways and to the library on their own accord, like salmon swimming back upstream. He stopped outside the doors and peaked inside. Yes—it was exactly like he remembered. There was that girl—Sarah, or Sophia—who was pre-med. She never slept. There was the grad student who spent hours poring over books on art history. He always had a cup of coffee with him. Blaine felt the dormant nerves in his stomach slowly begin to thaw and stretch. Hands made their way to familiar bookshelves, fingers flipped through page after page, eyes growing tired, body growing exhausted.

When he finally fell into bed, he didn't even have the energy to miss Kurt. He didn't have the energy to dream about lying next to him, having their skin touch under the covers. He didn't have the energy to do anything but fall asleep.

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><p><strong>Comments? :)<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

**So sorry for the delay on this. The very, very extended delay. And thanks to the anon who keeps reminding me to update :) Hope you enjoy. **

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><p>Sleeping's hard when someone's on your mind. Kurt sighed to himself and rolled over onto his side, hand reaching automatically for his phone, pressing his thumb down so that the screen lit up—nothing. It was nearly three in the morning and even the cars below his window had stopped passing by. The best thing he could hope for was that Blaine had fallen asleep, peacefully, sweetly, just like he should and that there is nothing to worry about. But something told him that wasn't the case because if things were good, then why wouldn't he just call Kurt?<p>

Kurt's eyelashes fluttered a little. They felt heavy and tired and all he wanted to do was sleep but his stomach churned and his heart was beating a little too fast for comfort so he just lay awake until the sun began to peak itself over the horizon and the city began to wake again.

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><p>Wes was in his face when Blaine woke up. His hair was wet and he had a toothbrush sticking out from between his lips, a serious expression on his face as he gazed down at Blaine. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Blaine sat up and instinctively began to grab for the blankets.<p>

"Hey, hey now," Wes laughed. "I'm not trying anything buddy. Just thought you should know that your boyfriend's been calling all morning. Can you please just talk to him?"

Blaine groaned and fell back against his pillow.

"Later. I'm tired."

"How long were you up?" Wes's voice was garbled through a mouthful of toothpaste. He took a few steps into the bathroom and came back a moment later, mouth empty and A-game interrogation on.

"Blaine?"

Blaine cringed. Wes was sounding a lot like his dad.

"Not that late."

"Hmm…" Wes gave him a very long once-over. "Well, if you weren't up all that late, you shouldn't be all that tired. At least not too tired to call your boyfriend back. Just let him know you're alright and—"

Blaine's phone began to ring again. Wes glared at Blaine who glared at the phone.

"I'm serious, Blaine, you'd better—"

"Okay, okay," Blaine grabbed the phone from his desk and jerked his head towards the door.

"Good boy," Wes grabbed his key and made a show of leaving.

Once he was gone, Blaine sighed, fingers hovering over the keypad of his phone, watching as Kurt's name flashed across the screen. He sat there, small under the florescent lighting, and let it ring itself to voicemail.

The phone went silent and Blaine set it down in his lap. A moment later it buzzed.

**9:12 AM **

**From: Kurt **

**Hey—everything okay? I haven't heard from you in a while. Just let me know if you're good…if we're good. Love you. **

Blaine sighed and contemplated the message for a moment.

**9:15 AM **

**From: Blaine**

**Hey, yeah, I'm fine. Just busy. Probably can't talk for a while. Sorry. **

**9:16 AM**

**From: Kurt**

**Oh, thank god. I was starting to worry. Um, yeah, no problem. Just…call me if you have time? I miss your voice. **

Blaine read the message and turned his phone off. Part of him wanted to call Kurt and listen to him ramble on about meaningless things that would somehow make him feel worlds better, but the other part of him felt ashamed. He was such a parasite. Kurt was the strong one of the two of them. He was the one who always picked up the pieces, stitched Blaine back together, made him feel okay. It really wasn't fair to Kurt; it wasn't fair that he gave Blaine everything and Blaine didn't give him a single thing back.

Blaine stood up and shook the thought, stretching a little as he fumbled for the radio on his desk. Right as he was about to turn it on, though, he thought of Kurt and Kurt's voice and how songs in general just reminded him of Kurt and the way Kurt would laugh and dance and kiss him on the neck. So he grabbed his books and headed out.

* * *

><p>Getting Blaine's text was such a relief. Kurt nearly cried when he read the reply. It took him a moment to digest it, though; it took him a moment to notice how short the sentences were, how irritated the words sounded. Kurt sighed and forced himself to think logically—Blaine was probably busy with school and make-up work. He probably was catching up with friends, spending a lot of time taking care of himself, sleeping like he should be, eating like he should be, maybe taking study breaks to relax, go out to coffee with kids from his class.<p>

But then there was the little voice in the back of his mind, the one that told him that Blaine was annoyed with him, that Blaine was sick of him, frustrated with him for being such a pest. There was the part that thought perhaps Blaine wasn't okay. Or even worse, that Blaine didn't need him like Kurt thought he had.

Kurt tapped out a reply message as fast as he could. He added the "I miss your voice" because it was true and because he wanted Blaine to say that he missed him, too. It was kind of pathetic, Kurt knew, but he really just needed to hear it. He hit send and sat on his bed, waiting, the minutes ticking by.

After a while, he realized that Blaine wasn't replying, and had to bite his lip in an effort to shake the sinking feeling in his stomach. In some weird way, Kurt had hoped that Blaine's whole ordeal would somehow bring them closer together. In high school, Blaine had always been the brave one. Blaine had been the one to kiss Kurt, the one to talk about his feelings, the one to push them forward in their relationship. So when this all had happened, Kurt thought that maybe this was his chance to give back to Blaine. But maybe Blaine just didn't need him. Maybe Kurt was just a clingy boyfriend and maybe it was time to start letting go a little.

Kurt glanced at the clock—he had class in an hour. Rolling his eyes up a little in an attempt to squash the tears lurking underneath his eyelids, Kurt stood up and ambled over to the bathroom, wincing a little as his eyes landed on a bracelet Blaine had left on the counter—it was simple, just a leather band with a little love knot on the back, but Kurt could picture the way it hung from Blaine's wrist, the way it swung as Blaine tackled him into the couch and kissed his forehead. Not really knowing what to do, Kurt shoved it in a drawer and tried to forget about it.

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><p>Tests scared Blaine. Like, really scared him. They made him want to hide. It wasn't that he didn't like school or anything, no, actually, he loved school and he loved learning, but he hated tests because they were an opportunity for him to fail. In high school it was all right because he would spend all night studying for a test but then in the afternoons, he would go to glee club and just sing it all out until every single tension in his body went away.<p>

Here, with the miles and miles of books, the kids who had accomplished things that adults dreamed of trying, and the teachers who had credentials a mile long, Blaine just felt lost and tired.

He dreamed of Kurt. His history and culture of South Asia had always been a tiring subject, so instead of listening and taking notes, he thought about Kurt and what Kurt would say if he was with Blaine. He would probably think of some witty remark to make about the teacher or about the class, half of which was asleep on their desks. Blaine smiled a little to himself. This wasn't a bad way to get by at all—Kurt's smile printed across the backs of his eyelids, his laugh ringing through Blaine's ears.

"Anderson?"

Blaine's eyes snapped open and his legs kicked out a little, the kid in front of him turning around to glare.

"Y-yes?"

"I was asking you to define the subcultures of the Paharis."

"Oh, I, uh, I…"

"Wasn't listening?"

"Well, I just—"

"Never mind," the teacher swept away leaving Blaine sitting there. "Rogers, can you answer in that case?"

Blaine didn't even hear the answer because all of a sudden his stomach seemed to tighten and his chest seemed to constrict. No, no, no. This was definitely not okay. Taking a deep breath, he pulled a piece of paper towards himself and began taking notes.

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><p><strong>So, so sorry for the very, very long delay on this chapter. The rest of the story will most likely be a couple more chapters long so...yes. and hopefully they'll be out sooner than the zillion month gap I had between the previous one and this one. Again, apologies! <strong>

**And comments? :) Thanks!  
><strong>


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you for all your lovely comments on the last chapter. I tried to get this one up sooner, and so hopefully I'll be able to update more regularly from now on! They'll probably be a few more chapters after this. Enjoy! **

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><p>Blaine's sleeping when Kurt calls. It's like he knows. It's like somehow he can tell that something is wrong. So he's resigned, in a way, when he answers the phone. He's ready for what he knows Kurt's going to say.<p>

"Hey." He can tell how quiet his voice is. It feels right, though, what with Kurt being so far away and the view from his window—snow melting around trees and benches, people in their coats and scarves, him up in his room, the heater on, the sound of Wes in the bathroom.

"Hey."

He tries to picture Kurt, the little apartment that they shared for those few days together. He tries to picture how Kurt must look—pretty pale skin, lips the color of strawberry popsicles in the summertime.

"So…" Kurt's voice trails off after the one word, leaving it as though it's all that needs to be said. The gap hangs there for a moment.

"How've you been?" Blaine almost feels guilty. It's been nearly a week since they talked properly. They'd texted back and forth for a while; usually, Kurt would offer to call and usually, Blaine would tell him not to.

"Good."

Blaine could hear Kurt exhale, as if he was about to say something but stopped himself. Blaine waited.

"Yeah, I've been—no, actually, things have been…listen, Blaine, I guess that's why I'm calling. You've…been avoiding me?" It comes out like a question and Blaine can almost hear the wince in Kurt's voice.

"I haven't…things have just been really busy."

"Right."

Blaine breathes, in, out, in. He counts to three.

"Are you angry with me?" Kurt asks.

"I'm not, I promise." Blaine says it a little too quickly, but he needs Kurt to know that he's not angry. He needs Kurt to know that he's not upset. He needs Kurt to know that he's all right. Really, truly, he's all right.

"Blaine, listen…I love you, I really, really do."

That's when Blaine's heart starts to sink. It's a little shift with those words and a little more with the ones to follow.

"You're my best friend. I care about you so, so much."

There's a pause and Blaine wonders if Kurt can hear how heavily he's breathing.

"But I can't do this, okay? I can't just wait here and hope that maybe you'll pick up your phone, that maybe I'll know what's going on with you. I can't just sit here and worry about you. And _you_, you can't just choose to call me when you feel like it and ignore me when you don't. It's not fair, Blaine."

Blaine swallows and nods into the receiver.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he says.

Kurt breathes hard into the phone.

"I know," he says.

They're quiet for a moment. Blaine can hear Wes turning off the water in the shower. He's waiting for Kurt to say it because there's no way in hell that _he_ can.

"I think…" he can tell Kurt's trying to chose his words. "I think that maybe we should just be friends."

Blaine can feel the rest of his heart give way, sliding from where it should be and falling somewhere deep inside him, somewhere where it's beat gets lost amongst the feeling of his breath, rapid though his lungs, and the blood rushing through his veins, cheeks turning hot and red, tears falling down to cool them.

"Okay," he says after a while. "If that's what you want."

There's a pause.

After a moment he hears something shift, as if Kurt's cheek is rubbing against the receiver.

"It's what I want."

"All right, then."

"Friends though, right?" He can hear the desperateness in Kurt's voice.

He thinks about it for a moment. He wants to say yes, but something inside of him begins to suck him down. It's one part anger—at Kurt for doing this to him and not understanding and calling it off when all Blaine wants Kurt to do is come rescue him. But it's also one part sadness because the best thing he's ever had is slipping away and it hurts so bad that it's almost tangible.

"I don't know, Kurt, maybe."

"I…I'll talk to you soon, then?" Kurt's voice sounds thick and for a fleeting moment, Blaine wonders what Kurt must be feeling.

"Yeah, we'll talk soon," he says softly.

There's a second's pause.

"Take care," Kurt's voice is gentle. Then the line goes dead.

* * *

><p>When Wes comes out, Blaine's still sitting there, holding the phone in his lap and staring out the window. He starts to wonder why.<p>

* * *

><p>The last time he'd done it, it'd been too messy. It makes him sick to think about, actually. This time, he'd need to be neater. It wasn't fair to Wes to have to find him like that. This time, he'd been more thoughtful.<p>

The drugstore across campus is open twenty-four hours a day. He buys a bottle of Advil, turning it over in his hands as he walks through the florescent-lit aisles. He remembers being little. He remembers getting sick and having his mom break apart capsules, giving him half of one along with a glass of juice and a bowl of soup.

That makes him stop for a moment—his mom, his dad, their faces. They love him, they do. He knows that. He starts to put the bottle back.

This isn't about them, though. All his life he's thought about them, what they want, what they expect. This is about him and what he needs. He needs Kurt to come back to him. He needs to feel better. He needs to stop hurting so much.

He takes the bottle back and buys it before he can second-guess himself again. It's still pretty early. Wes is probably still awake. Blaine tries to think of somewhere nice, somewhere he'd be happy to die. The park has always been a beautiful place, lovely in the springtime, enchanting in the winter. But he doesn't want to alarm an innocent passerby who'd happen to find him. No, that wouldn't do. He also needs somewhere where he won't be found for a while.

He's walking back when he sees it—a church open all hours of the day.

There are beautiful stain glass windows. The organ in the back looks old and timely. He can picture the generations and generations of people all seated along the pews—elegant ladies from the twenties, soldiers from the forties, little boys from the sixties. It's truly a wonderful place to take in.

He finds a closet. It smells a little musty but he likes it. Sitting there he can imagine something more than himself, something more than him and his problems.

He closes his eyes and pictures Kurt behind his eyelids.

_So pretty_, he thinks. He realizes that he hasn't brought anything to drink. He can't even do this right, he thinks to himself.

Slowly, he empties the bottle into his hand. The dim light makes them look like glittering red sand cupped in his palm.

He thinks of his family.

He thinks of the future he won't have.

He thinks of all the things he'll miss.

He thinks of the way Kurt said, "I think that maybe we should just be friends."

He opens his mouth, tilts back his head, and raises his palm to his lips.

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><p><strong>Comments? <strong>


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